When Words Fail Me
by Mimza
Summary: Leon and Cloud are used to the silence - but it's never been this tense, before. Why cant Leon find the words to explain himself, when he's done it so many times before? LxC oneshot


_Disclaimer: Oh, nuh-uh, no way did you think that my puny brain could create such awesome characters as Leon and Cloud?! Pfft! The beauty of _fan_fiction – these aint mine!_

**Since I always dedicate stories to people, Imma dedicate this one to **_**StellarEclipse**_**, 'cause her "moment" stories inspire me to write. They're uber-awesome and detailed, so like, go read plzkthnx. 8D**

_OKAY. I've had the worst, most horrible artist, writers and music block lately. It depresses me so. _

_Ironically enough, this wasn't meant to be a story… just a test to see if I could still write, y'know? But… whatever. XD; I know that bits of it don't make… any sense. But, enjoy, anyway! _

_p.s. lets hope I didn't make as many grammatical errors as Word keeps telling me I have… _

**;; start ;;**

The scarred swordsman's eyes searched, only barely growing accustomed to the dark confines of the small room he had found his way into. By the mask of the shadowed walls, he allowed his usually nonchalant expression to morph, and portray what he truly felt; his eyebrows creased concernedly over glassy, grey eyes, mouth set in a line that wobbled with every shallow breath he took. Chocolate tendrils of hair had long since strewn themselves across his sculpted face, doing well to hide the countenance that his own faltering self-control would not.

Remorse, desperation and worry were all apparent in his vulnerable visage, though the single, casual word he forced from his lips would have proven otherwise to the person in his vicinity.

"… hey."

Finally, as his gaze settled on a figure in the corner of the room, he took a hesitant step forward, placing himself in the stream of intruding light reflected from the full moon beyond the thinly-curtained window. A slight shift in the head of golden spikes was the only indication that the other had heard the brunet's weak greeting.

Alas, it was not enough. With a step more tentative than the last, the elder approached, his eyes fixed upon the chair which had been turned to face the wall – turned to face away from whoever may enter the room.

The seated blonde sighed impatiently, and the nearing male came to a halt, inwardly cringing at the exhaled breath that, under any other circumstance, would have seemed irrelevant… but, to him, and to anyone else that had spent so long analysing and understanding his partner's muted language, it was a silent alert that he was not needed, nor wanted. It took a moment for him to urge himself forward, again.

"Cloud… You okay?"

Not to his surprise - but totally against what he had hoped – an awkward silence ensued, only broken by the slight nervous scuffs of the elder's boots against the carpet, or the even lesser noise of Cloud's head leaning back against the cushioned chair.

As both were quiet by nature, it was expected that the two men were left in hushed stillness, even in each other's presence; but – after everything they had shared and confessed – it was not desirable that their silence would be smothered by such a quilt of tension.

Inwardly, the brunet wished it away, pleading that the sudden wave of uneasy quietness would finally retreat, and bring their lost moments back; the playful banter… the rare, but genuine laughter and smiles… the warm sensation that only Cloud could bring forth, and effectively remove from his system.

But it remained, for he - on his own - could not conjure the words to speak, mend, or fix; only pointless statements, barely strung together to form a conversation that had died before it had begun.

"…I'm still sorry… about yesterday, and the day before and… everything…" He paused, gulping away the tremor that had become increasingly blatant in his speech, before continuing, "I'm just going to pretend… It never happened."

He smiled weakly; _it's what I'm best at, I suppose._

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of his tranquil vow, the blonde swordsman leaned forward in his seat, eyes of Mako-blue flickering over his shoulder to address the taller male. They pierced through the dimness, more luminous than even the orb hanging in the night-sky outside, slowly glazing over the anticipating brunet.

"Whatever makes you happy, Leon."

His lips barely parted as he spoke, the tone of his voice falling into a characteristic, deep monotony. Their gaze held for a second longer, then, as Cloud's eyes averted and he slunk back into his chair, the electric stare snapped, and Leon remained in his frozen frame, somehow wishing that his companion had never spoken at all.

It was confirmed, now; Leon had done something wrong – and his mere presence was not about to fix it.

The standing male felt his upright posture waver, crumbling almost as violently as the strong façade he constantly hid behind, plunging him into an insecure uselessness as he struggled to find something, _anything _to say, like he had so often done in the past; a simple phrase, a tender reminder…

Perhaps, even, the true response to Cloud's dismissive statement.

"_Making you happy makes me happy… don't you understand?"_

Regrettably, as foreign tears of hopelessness constricted his throat, the words he longed to speak failed, and died. With a small stumble, he stepped backwards, muting the sob that threatened to burst from his chest, holding his hands by his side in tightly clenched fists to stop them from lunging forward and encasing the blonde in an apologetic embrace.

"_Sorry, for what?" _

"… _For everything."_

"I… nh…" He managed to mutter as his steps backtracked across the room, as blind and pointless as his outspoken dialogue. "… I… really…"

"_You are my remedy, my cure, my refuge; my only one."_

The back of his boot hit the wooden door, a gloved, shaking hand moving to grasp the door-knob, not yet twisting, but pausing – giving him one more chance to speak.

"_I__ just hope I'll be able to return the favour when you need me."_

The brunet's eyes drifted shut, a fragile smile tugging at his lips as the reel of memories fluttered into his mind's view, holding him captive within their comforting honesty… allowing Squall Leonhart to become as free as he had naturally become towards Cloud, once more.

… No matter what it may mean, as time passed.

"I love you." Leon whispered, the first teardrop making its descent down his cheek. His hand re-gripped the brass knob and turned, permitting the natural light from outside into the dim premises as he departed, smothering his pained posture with a well practised disguise of indifference before stepping into the street.

With a satisfied nod, he waved limply over his shoulder, and shut the door behind him.

"_Please don't forget it."_

**;; end ;;**

_If all else fails, it seems to work okay if you read it aloud xD;_

_Actually, I haven't been bothered to re-read and edit this, in case I go "NAH. NOT GONNA POST IT." and then people will come after me with pitchforks 8D So… er, yes._

_Thanks for reading, please review!_

Mimza


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